


The Things I Should Have Said

by inconvenientideal



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Feels, I'm Sorry, M/M, Otabek Altin too, Too many feels, Yuri Plisetsky Needs a Hug, incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 03:35:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18160952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inconvenientideal/pseuds/inconvenientideal
Summary: Yuri should learn to be more honest with himself and with others.His stubbornness has never brought him anywhere, after all.And he's so sure about it. He doesn't like Otabek. Or at least, not in that way.So then why does it hurt when he thinks about him, late at night, when all he's left with are his own thoughts and the black leather jacket Otabek lent him three months ago lying by his side?This isn't love.This can't be love, Yuri's so sure of it.Because love can't possibly hurt this much.





	The Things I Should Have Said

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13982XZKxE8
> 
> I was listening to this amazing song last night and... yeah, this is what ultimately came of it.  
> OtaYuri, once again.

This can't be love. This, Yuri Plisetsky says, is not love. 

 _I don't even know what love feels like_.

And he's sure as hell that his heart is not supposed to _hurt_ this much whenever he makes eye contact with a certain someone. That it's not right for his stomach to feel so _odd_ as those eyes lock with his, holding his gaze.

(A gaze that, by the way, is _completely_ unintentional. Definitely. Yuri's so sure about this, too.)

 

 

_"I'm leaving tomorrow."_

_"I know."_

_A warm hand brushes through his golden locks._

_"Don't tell me you're not sad about it."_

_"I'm not."_

_A tight smile- it doesn't reach the eyes._

_"I know you are."_

_"You know **nothing** , Otabek."_

 

Thinking back at it, that was probably the only true thing Yuri had said to Otabek that night.   
The night before Otabek left for the fucking _United States of America_. Said he wanted to try getting into med school, or something. 

He snorted a bit at the thought of it: Doctor Altin. For real?

They slept next to each other that night,

 

(on the same bed, even, something that Otabek had always been against.)

(and Yuri, he doesn't care at all. It doesn't hurt him one bit, really.)

 

Otabek eventually sneaking his arms around Yuri's slim waist in the middle of the night, holding him so tight,

and when Yuri feels tears falling on his shoulder, he pretends not to hear. 

When he hears those three hushed words, _that's_ when he knows that this is not love.

Because his heart can't possibly be shattering into a million, tiny pieces from just one sentence. 

His eyes aren't filling with tears, his back doesn't feel hot where Otabek is desperately clutching to him (breathes on his skin, uneven, _broken_ ), 

and Yuri Plisetsky is not in love. 

Most definitely, not with the kazahk guy who's silently crying, whose tears seem to sink deep into Yuri's skin.

Not with the guy who's going to move to fucking _America_ when the sun will rise,

leaving him behind.

 

When the time comes, Otabek will give him that black leather jacket, the one he wore the first time they met.  
But Yuri doesn’t know that yet.

 

(He’ll find it a couple of days after he’s left, hanging neatly in his closet.)

(He'll _cry_. But Otabek won't ever know about it. He just won't.)

 

* * *

 

 

Two years pass by, and Yuri turns twenty. 

_And Otabek is not there._

 

 

"I had sex last night." 

Silence. 

"For the first time. The guy finally decided to make his move."

Again, silence. 

"...Did he make you feel good?"

The one who keeps quiet, this time, is Yuri. 

"Yeah. It was sex. Of course it's going to feel good." 

Yuri won't tell him about the aftermath. Won't tell him about his silent sobs muffled by the pillow as the guy took a shower the morning after. Won't tell him about the lack of affection after it ended. His first time. 

Won't tell him how _wrong_ it felt to be touched by those hands.

...Won’t tell him how tight he gripped that leather jacket, naked and sweaty, thinking about Otabek. Starting to miss voice. His scent.

The warmth of hands that could only belong to him.

"...Right, of course." 

"Yeah."  

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yuri's getting thinner. It has quickly become alarming. It's alarming how even from the computer screen, Otabek can't help but notice his thinning hair. The dark shadows under his beautiful, beautiful eyes.

 

 

"Yuri, you really should take care more about-"

"My grandpa passed away."

And this time, this one time, it makes perfect sense to be only greeted with silence.

"Last night. You know... terminal cancer. They couldn't do much at that point."

"Yura..."

And he says that name again. It's been a long time since he last heard it. 

 _Way too long._  

Never once in that voice. 

And so this time, just this once, he'll allow himself to shed a tear in front of him.

_I need you, Otabek. I need you right now. I need you to tell me that everything will be alright._

But once again, he'll let those words linger on his tongue, tasting the bitterness of it. 

What's different, though, is that he gets a feeling that Otabek probably understood him this time. 

He sees it in his expression, one he'd never let himself show to Yuri before, 

and as Otabek slightly opens his mouth again,

Yuri ends the call. 

He won't hear a word anymore. 

He can't.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Yuri! Yuri have you heard?" 

It's Yuri's twenty-sixth birthday, and he's had too many shots. Way too many.

"What do you want, Mila?" he mumbles as he rests his forehead on the bar's counter, cussing lightly as something wet and sticky makes contact with the end of his nose. 

"Otabek's coming back," and if the cute barman didn't quite manage to catch his attention all night, this definitely did, his head shooting up.  "He graduated a couple of weeks ago. Will be in St. Petersburg in... a week, probably? I don't really now. But he's coming to see us all!" 

"I don't give a fuck. You go see him, tell him I say ' _fuck you_ '." he gets up and loses his balance for a moment, feigning composure as he makes his way out, cigarette hanging between his lips. 

He's coming back.

...Otabek is coming back.

He takes a long drag of his Marlboro red, soon putting it out and immediately lighting up a new one.

_Asshole. Letting me know through Mila._

Honestly, Yuri is not ready to see him. It's been eight years. 

What if he doesn't like the way Yuri's shoulder have broadened over the years? What if he finds Yuri's way-too-long hair stupid? 

But Yuri won't care even if that's the case. Why would he? 

 

It's not like he loves him.

In fact, he very much despises him.

Yuri's not in love. He doesn't know what love feels like.

He truly has no idea. None at all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"There were... some problems." Georgi's face is as serious as ever, he's not used to see him wearing such an expression. 

And Yuri doesn't fail to notice Mila's red rimmed eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

Yuri had just woken up that day... hearing cries coming from the living room.

"Sit down, Yuri." 

"What the fuck happened, Georgi?"

Mila starts crying again, and Yuri's beginning to panic. 

"Yuri, sit down and then-"

" _What the **fuck** has happened to **him** , Georgi?!_"

Because it must be about him. It can't be about anybody else. 

 _Because Yuri can feel it, feels it in his chest, feels it everywhere_.

"...There was a plane crash." 

And Yuri can't feel anything now. Not a single thing.

Time stops. 

A small whimper coming from the couch.

"...Is he dead?" 

Yuri asks in a small voice, scared to say to the words out loud.

"He's been admitted to the Hospital. Doctors said he was 'lucky', given that almost all of the passengers are dead."

Yuri keeps silent. 

"He's in a coma, Yuri."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He's running up the stairs, the strong smell of antiseptics ( _the smell he’s so familiar with already, the one that brings up the bad memories_ ) make him feel dizzy, he's out of breath, his lungs scream for air and-

he keeps running. 

He needs to see him. 

Needs to see Otabek.

Because he would do anything to see those brown eyes looking at him again. 

Would give up ten years (no, make that twenty) of his life to hear his name leave his lips one more time.

 

_Because he won't let Otabek leave him behind. Not again._

 

As he speeds through the Hospital's corridors, checking the rooms' numbers and almost about to bump into a couple of nurses (ignoring their scolding because, honestly, he doesn't give a damn about that right now),

he promises himself to say everything this time.

Just this once,

just this one time, 

he will say those words that have been weighing down on his chest for far too long.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because in reality, 

there's not one thing that Yuri has ever been so sure of,

if not the fact that he is completely, utterly, madly in love with the man he finds lying in front of him,

connected to the oxygen machine.

He smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> So... I don't even know if this makes sense. If this was way too out of character but... yeah, I still hope someone can enjoy this.


End file.
